


The Yule Ball

by Hufflepuffsanonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hufflepuffsanonymous/pseuds/Hufflepuffsanonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hermione attends the annual Yule Ball hosted by Ministry in an expensive dress that she received in the mail with no indication as to who it came from, she is determined to find out who gave it to her, and why. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Yule Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Her dress is here: <http://hufflepuffsanonymous.tumblr.com/post/82962904246/zuhair-murad-spring-summer-2014>

The Yule Ball

The Ministry of Magic held an annual Yule Ball to raise money for St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Hermione dreaded it; the brown nosing of her fellow colleagues, the need to dress up fancy, the time taken away from her work, the crowds, the noise and _the press_. She thoroughly dreaded the affair every year since becoming a member of the Magical Law Enforcement Department.

She looked at herself in the mirror again to make sure that every curl of her elaborate up-do was still in place. It had taken her a solid hour to complete the up-do despite following an ‘easy’ tutorial that she had found online. This is why the internet could not be trusted. She cast another freezing charm on her hair, just in case, and shimmied into her tight lavender dress that was anonymously gifted upon her with a note that read: _For the Yule Ball, I hope it fits_. She had run every test in the book to see if the dress was cursed, but had come up empty handed, and she had to admit, she really enjoyed the way it flattered her body. Its general backlessness made her somewhat self-conscious, but she ignored that whole heartedly and buttoned the clasp at the top of her back.

Hermione took out her Muggle makeup, never having mastered any glamour spells, and applied mascara, outlined her eyes in black eyeliner, and added a dash of blush and red lipstick. She slipped on her black pumps and cast a comfort charm so that she would be able to last the whole night in the death traps. She grabbed her black clutch, pet Crookshanks behind the ears and disapparated.

She appeared in the sumptuous foyer of the ballroom that the Ministry had rented out for the occasion and was overwhelmed by voices and the flashing cameras. She quickly made her way into the ballroom dodging questions about her recent—well it was a few months now, but it still felt recent—break up with one Ronald Weasley who she hoped would not show his face tonight.

Hermione walked into the ballroom awkwardly. The large hall was decorated lavishly and seemed to sparkle gold. It had three twinkling glass chandeliers, a stage with a large band that was currently playing ambient jazz music. To the right was a large open archway that lead to what appeared to be flowering gardens, to the left were the food tables as well as some tables for guests to sit at. She gravitated toward the long heaven-laden food tables and started filling up a plate of hors d’oeuvres and contemplating when it would be deemed appropriate to leave the party without seeming rude. As she ate her cheese and crackers and sipped on a delicious glass of champagne she glanced around the crowded hall. She noticed several people that she recognised from the Ministry and Hogwarts, but no one that she was close enough to want to start a conversation with. At that moment several heads turned and she heard people whispering ‘Harry Potter.’ She looked up and saw Harry, arms linked with Ginny looking ridiculously gorgeous on one side of him and Ron looking surprisingly dashing on his other side. She pulled her eyes away and hoped that they did not see her. Luckily she was saved by a speech by the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The minister stood on the stage in front of the band and magically amplified his voice. “Welcome to everyone, and thank you for coming tonight,” he started in his deep relaxing voice.  Hermione drifted subtly toward one of the pillars as he spoke, hoping to avoid the gaze of her friends. Hermione leaned into the pillar so that it blocked her from Ron’s view, and pretty anyone’s for that matter; the pillar was in shadow. Kingsley was still talking about the need to come together as a society that was still recovering from the war two and half years ago. She admired the leaves that were carved into the marble and painted gold.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” a male voice whispered into her ear as a body pressed up against hers and placed a hand on her waist.

She tried to turn her head to look back at the man who dared to invade her presence but found that his large hand was now holding her head in place so that she couldn’t turn to face him.

“Not yet, love,” he whispered and planted a kiss on her neck. Hermione bristled at the contact and felt a heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m glad you wore the dress I bought for you,” he mumbled into her neck. She clutched her small overflowing plate of food in front of her tightly.

“Who are you?” she whispered harshly trying to calm her body’s innapropriate physical reaction to his touch. _It’s only because it’s been a few months_ , she reasoned. “Why did you get me this dress?”

“If you meet me in the gardens by the statue of the Sphinx at 9:00 pm you can find out,” he said after trailing his tongue up the length of her neck.

Hermione let the beginnings of a moan escape her mouth before she could stop herself and she heard him chuckle lightly into her ear. He nuzzled his face into her neck and began sucking the base of it lightly. Her senses were overwhelmed by his contact as well as the cologne that he was wearing; it smelled vaguely of cinnamon. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her neck to the side to give him better access. It was not until he had pulled away, whispered, “Don’t be late,” and sauntered off that she realised that he had not been holding her head in place after the first few seconds of their encounter; she could have turned around and seen his face if she wasn’t so busy enjoying him attacking her neck. She suddenly felt like a slag and went to the loo to calm down and maybe clean her neck. Kingsley finished his speech and clapping echoed around the ballroom as she exited.

Hermione looked at herself in the large ornate mirror in the bathroom and to her horror noticed that she had a prominent hickey at the base of her neck. She cast a quick glamour charm before anyone would notice and silently prayed to Jesus, Merlin, George Clooney, any God-like entity, that it would hold the whole night. Now she really wanted to leave. When she returned to the ballroom a few moments later Harry was standing on the stage delivering his own speech, although with much less grace than Kingsley.

Hermione glanced at the large clock hanging above the entryway. It was only 8. She found an empty seat in a forgotten corner of the room and picked at the food on her plate as person after person delivered speeches about those lost in the war, moving forward past old prejudices, and the importance of building and growing together. Finally the director of St. Mungo’s took the stage and announced that enough money had been raised to offer free courses on basic magical healing around the country. Everyone clapped politely and the music started up again, this time a quick waltz. Hermione thought about the mysterious man that had bought her dress and was so talented with his lips. This reminded her of the hour. She looked at the clock. It was 8:58 pm. _Should I meet him?_ She was going to stay rooted to her seat until she saw Ron dancing closely with none other than life-wrecker-Lavender-Brown who for her part was wearing a very short very revealing pink dress and crazy tall heels that almost brought her height up to Ron’s gangly 6’4”.

Hermione stood resolutely and walked gracefully across the dance floor and out into the gardens. She didn't notice that Ron’s gaze followed her out of the room. Hermione was met by several hedges and twinkling fairy lights. She was reminded of the Yule Ball during her fourth year and began wandering the gardens looking for this Sphinx statue. She was just thinking of giving up when she walked behind a hedge and found it. It was much smaller than she expected, which is why it was so hard to find, and appeared to made out of solid gold. There was no one in sight.

Hermione sat down on the bench across from the Sphinx and examined its large breasts. She looked down at her own slight chest and sighed. The image of Lavender about to pop out of her revealing dress popped into her mind. Hermione suddenly felt someone sit on the bench behind her and place their legs on either side of hers so that her back was flush against their chest again. Hermione was overwhelmed by the spicy smell of cinnamon again.

“You’re late,” he said. His lips descended hungrily to her neck again, but pulled back abruptly. She felt her skin tingle where he had marked her earlier. “Why did you cover it up?” he demanded.

“I can’t very well walk around at a formal function with that on my neck, now can I?” she said annoyed that he had given her the hickey in the first place and annoyed by the fact that she had come to seek him out again.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Hermione huffed. “Going around giving girls hickeys who don’t ask for them is called sexual harassment,” she retorted.

“It’s not harassment if you want it,” he whispered into her ear and began to plant hot kisses on her neck again. He linked an arm around her waist and used it to pull her closed to him. Hermione sighed in delight as he continued his path to the base of her neck again. “Tell me to stop,” he said huskily before suctioning his lips onto her pulse.

Hermione was having trouble thinking straight. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back against his broad shoulder, her chest heaving, nipples hard as glass. The man’s hand around her waist was slowly inching lower and her only thought was _more_.

He pulled away suddenly and Hermione made a noise of distaste before she could stop herself. “Just say the word and I’ll stop.” He attached his lips to her neck once again, this time going up to her jaw and playing with her ear.

His hand reached the juncture between her legs, covered in thin fabric. As he massaged her gently there Hermione failed at retaining her moan. It seemed to echo in the silence of the gardens. The man whispered in her ear, “Shh, love.” However, Hermione could not retain herself as he continued to stroke her over her expensive dress. The man silenced her by attaching his lips to hers. She kissed him back hungrily, moaning into his mouth.

Then she opened her eyes.

She ripped apart from the man and stood shakily, her body still thrumming with excitement. “Malfoy?” she accused feebly.

His chest was heaving as much as hers and his pale face was flushed. He was sporting a flattering three piece suit with his bleach blond hair parted to the side. He offered her a lopsided grin and mock bowed. “At your service.”

Hermione stared at him in shock and tried to calm the hormones coursing through her body. “What are—I don’t—What?” she shouted.

Draco stood and grabbed her hands gently. “Calm down, Granger.” His touch soothed her almost immediately, which worried her immensely. Draco looked her up and down. “The dress really does look great. I had to guess your measurements. Which considering the fact that you flee my presence at the Ministry on a daily basis, was hard to do.”

“I—Thank you?” Hermione was unsure what was happening.

“Now where were we?” Draco asked before pressing his lips against hers again. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him right back before remembering, with difficulty, who she was kissing. She pulled back again roughly.

“We can’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” Draco asked pulling her against him. She became acutely aware of the fact that she could feel him poking against her stomach.

“Is that…?”

“All for you,” he winked and lowered his mouth to her neck again.

She pulled away from him putting a few feet between their heated bodies. “I don’t understand,” she admitted finally.

“What’s to understand? You’re intelligent and beautiful. And most importantly no longer with that red headed fool.” He stepped closer to her again. “And a great kisser.”

“But…you hate me.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Evidently,” he said sarcastically as he pulled her against him once again to show just how much he hated her.

“I just…Sorry this is very hard for me to understand.”

“Apparently you’re not as smart as I thought you were,” he joked lightly. “Why are you questioning this? A second ago you were more than happy to have your tongue in my mouth.”

“A second ago you weren’t Draco Malfoy.”

Draco stepped back and looked hurt for a second before masking his face.  “Leave then, if that’s what you want.” He said coldly, stepping away from her.

Hermione lingered for a moment, her body wanting to finish what they had started, but she turned away after a moment and glided back into the ballroom. Trying to shake her bizarre encounter out of her system. With her bad luck she walked right into Ron, Lavender, Harry, and Ginny.

“Hermione!” Harry said happily. He detached himself from Ginny and hugged her tightly. The rest of the group stared at her with varying expressions of distaste.

“Hi,” Hermione said tightly, resolutely ignoring Ron’s presence.

“How are you?” Harry asked genuinely interested. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“More precisely, since you broke my brother’s heart,” Ginny added spitefully.

“Gin!” Harry scolded.

Hermione ignored your comment. “I’m great Harry. Thanks for asking. How have you…all been?” she asked awkwardly.

“Is that a hickey on your neck?” Lavender shouted pointing at the second gift that Draco had given Hermione that night.

“Are you here with someone?” Ron asked.

Hermione’s hand shot up to cover her neck and she blushed fiercely. She stared at them all in horror, unsure of what to say.

“I believe that would be me,” a smooth voice announced from behind her. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him.

Everyone, including Hermione looked at him in shock.

“Wh—” she began to say, but he cut her off.

“Hermione, love, would you care to dance?” and he lead her gracefully toward the dance floor. He said over his shoulder, “Lavender, dear, I suggest getting a dress that fits, I really do not care to see your nipples.”

Lavender blushed fiercely and pulled up her dress aggressively.

Hermione found her arms wrapped around Draco Malfoy’s neck, his around her waist, swaying side to side in the middle of the largest party of the year for all to see.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m welcome? What do you think—”

“What will bother Weasley more; seeing you dancing with his arch nemesis with proof on your neck that you have moved on, or seeing you sulk alone in the corner of the room?” he questioned.

“But you have ulterior motives!” she accused.

“We’re both getting what we want,” he corrected and pulled her closer to him. “I want you,” he whispered into her ear, “and you want him to be jealous of you as much as I want to rub it in his face what an idiot he was to let you go. Win win.” His hands descended to her ass and she pulled them back up blushing violently.

“I’m not a slag, Malfoy.”

“That’s why I like you, Granger,” he said kissing her cheek lightly.

She blushed again. She glanced over at Ron who was staring at her angrily. Lavender stood by his side casting Hermione evil looks and pulling her dress up every few seconds. Hermione smiled smugly. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Let’s give them something to talk about.”

Draco looked down at her like Christmas came early. Hermione pushed her hands into Draco’s bleach blonde hair and pulled his face closer to hers. She looked him in the eyes and felt her heart beat speed up, already forgetting about Ron’s presence. Before she could lose her nerve she closed the gap between their lips. Draco reacted immediately, giving her all that he could in that one kiss. Hermione tangled her tongue with his. When they finally pulled apart she was breathless and very hot again. She giggled softly and smoothed down his hair that she had made a mess of.

“Blimey, Granger,” Draco said huskily. “If I had known you were hiding all that under your frumpy school uniform I would have whisked you away from Weasley a long time ago.” He moved slightly away from her so that their bodies were no longer touching and easily lead her in a slow waltz.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she admitted after a moment. Hermione tried to locate Ron who seemed to have disappeared while her mouth was fused to Draco’s. She was cut off from her search by Draco’s lips pressing lightly against hers again.

Her pulled back and murmured, “Just enjoy yourself, stop thinking about him.”

And Hermione did.

Draco twirled her around the dance floor expertly and with her dress flaring out at every turn she felt like a real princess. She found herself pressed against a wall sometime later, her neck getting the attention that she didn’t know it so desired from none other than Draco Malfoy.

“Get a room,” Ron said roughly at the sight of them. _Where did he come from_ , Hermione thought absentmindedly.

Draco pulled away from Hermione and eyed him up and down rudely.

“Gladly,” Hermione said grabbing Draco’s arm. “Shall we, Draco dear?”

Draco looked down at her somewhat confused, but in order to keep up appearances said, “As the lady wishes,” leaned down and kissed her while turning on the spot and disapparating them into his flat. Hermione found that the usual uncomfortable feeling of being squished that usually accompanied apparition was replaced by an intense pressure pushing her closer to Draco’s lips. She had never felt more secure in someone’s arms or more turned on. It ended as quickly as it started and they landed in what she assumed was his flat. He pulled back from her lightly, their bodies still pressed against one another.

“I’ve never kissed while Apparating before,” Hermione said, out of breath.

“Want to do it again?” he asked with an eyebrow raised suggestively. He leaned down before she responded and invaded her mouth with his tongue. He transported them into his large bedroom.

Once they arrived Hermione kissed him back passionately, her hands tangled into his formerly perfectly parted hair. “Again,” she whispered between kisses.

Draco apparated them onto his bed with Hermione laying on top of him. She moved against his waist vigorously, her hands unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Weasley’s not here to see,” Draco reminded her when she unlinked their lips so that she could get his shirt off faster.

“I should hope not,” she responded and continued to undo his shirt. She was quickly rolled onto her back by a suddenly very controlling Draco.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled.

Hermione’s heart skipped at the look of joy on his face.

“Let me help you out of your dress,” he offered.

What followed was one of the hottest experiences of Hermione’s life. He slowed down her previously frantic pace and unbuttoned the top button at the back of her neck slowly while kissing her deeply. He placed wet kisses down her body as he slowly peeled the dress down. He groaned audibly when he noted that she had gone braless. His tongue flicked out at one of her nipples before he sucked on one of her breasts gently. Then insistently. He pulled away suddenly and continued his tortuously slow descent down her body. When he reached her belly button he swirled his tongue in circles around it slowly.

“Draco,” Hermione moaned quietly.

He tugged her dress past her hips and kissed her way closer and closer to her lace clad centre, only to continue down her legs and dispose of the whole dress unceremoniously throwing it over his shoulder.

“Hey!” she said indignantly. “I like that dress, be careful.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” Draco said distractedly while peeling off her black pumps which he similarly threw over his shoulder. He then proceeded to kiss, lick and nip his way back up her legs.

He finally reached her underwear and glanced up at her, his head hovering over her centre. He pressed a finger to her panties and rubbed it in slow circles. Hermione’s eyes closed of their own accord and she bucked her hips against his touch. He kept his infuriatingly slow pace and kissed the patch of skin just above her panty line wetly.

“Stop teasing me,” she grumbled past her clenched teeth.

“Am I teasing you,” he asked, fully knowing the response. “Sorry,” he apologised. His wand appeared in his hand suddenly and made her panties disappear.

His hand was now touching her clit directly and Hermione groaned happily. He inserted a finger into her wet slit and his tongue replaced the finger that had been previously playing with her clit. Hermione arched her back not believing how hot she was. Her one hand gripped Draco’s hair tightly while the other gripped the sheets as if her life depended on it. Draco alternated between licking circles around her clit and sucking on it hotly.

“Nnnngh…”

Draco pulled his head away suddenly and stilled his fingers inside of her. “Sorry what was that, Granger?”

Hermione breathed heavily. “Why are you stopping!” she cried.

Draco lowered his mouth to her mound again and flicked out his tongue. She bucked up to meet it. “Is this what you want?”

“What do you think!”

“Is that a no?” he teased pulling his face further away from where she needed it to be.

“Put your tongue back on my clit, Malfoy or I swear to GOD,” Hermione moaned out ‘God’ as Draco returned to vigorously pleasuring her with his more than skilled tongue. He hummed happily against her centre.

Hermione’s heart was racing and she was mumbling incoherently. She was so close. When Draco pulled away from her and removed his fingers from her.

Her eyes snapped open angrily only to see him removing his clothes quickly. Hermione gulped at the size of his very hard dick. “If I had known you had been hiding that all these years under a mask of disdain…” she said mirroring his earlier comment. She pushed him onto his back before he could stop her, muttering “My turn.” Her mouth engulfed him before he knew what was happening. She bobbed her head up and down determinedly.

“Fuck, Granger,” Draco ground out.

She released his dick from her mouth and cut off his protests by saying, “Annoying isn’t it? When someone teases you.” She filled her mouth with his cock again before he could respond, not having as much restraint as Draco when it came to teasing someone.

He pulled her off of him a few moments later, breathing heavily. “As much as I enjoy this, I’m not going to last very long with you putting that amazing mouth of yours to work.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t need much longer,” was all she said before she slid onto him and began riding him quickly. She tilted her hips so that he hit her sweet spot every time he entered her. Draco’s hand reached up to her waist, speeding up her rhythm. The sound of flesh hitting flesh and their moans punctuated the silence of the otherwise quiet room.

Hermione felt a heat pooling in her stomach and she began to ride Draco erratically. He brought her mouth down to his and tangled their tongues together once again. Hermione was near the breaking point, no longer thinking straight and mumbling gibberish into Draco’s mouth.

“You…So good…Hermione” Draco moaned breathlessly into her ear.

At the sound of her given name crossing her lover’s lips, her universe imploded. And she twitched on top of Draco who came a few seconds later, as she clenched around his thick length.

Several moments later Hermione realised that Draco was gently kissing her neck as she lay on top of him. She rolled onto her side and Draco pulled her in close to him.

“That was incredible,” he whispered into her ear before planting a kiss on it.

Hermione nodded sleepily.

“Stay the night?” Draco requested, his hand around her waist grabbing her breast lightly. He didn’t play with it, just held it softly.

“Okay,” Hermione heard herself agreeing and her heart sped up again.

Draco snuggled closer to her, “I’ll be ready for round two after a quick nap, love,” he said falling asleep.

Hermione’s eyes widened and she felt herself getting wet again. She had barely survived round one.

 


End file.
